200 Years Too Late?
by Flying Strawberry Bunny
Summary: It has been over 200 years since Alfred understood his feelings for Arthur, but after his revolution 200 years ago he feels like he waited too long to tell him. Is he 200 years too late now? Does Arthur even love him anymore? Rating will go up later, please comment. My fist UsUk fanfic/hetalia fanfic I ever post!
1. The clock has started

Over two hundred years. And yet, he still couldn't find the courage to tell him how he felt. How could he? They had been happy, until he had gone and ruined it. It seemed like all he ever did was ruin his happiness. What words could he use to ever even hope to apologize for what he did? _Hey you remember how I broke your heart well I'm sorry here have some flowers? _No. There was no way that would work, besides, Arthur deserved much better than him. He really was an idiot if he thought that after the revolution he still had a chance. He'd waited too long, and now it was just far too late.

It felt weird to be back in America. Sure there had been world meetings here before, but that feeling of being out of place never died. He remembered when America had still been his colony, and he always felt welcome here, but now, after the revolution their entire relationship was awkward. If only he still had the confidence of his pirate days, when he wasn't afraid to tell anyone how he felt or to even kill whoever dared to so much as give him a bad look. But those days were long gone, and in place of the fearless pirate stood and awkward gentleman in a world that moved by much too quickly for him to keep up.

As he wandered down the busy street to the hotel he would be staying at, he couldn't help but feel like coming at all was a big mistake. Maybe he should have just called in sick and done that pile of paperwork he had left at home. That's what he usually did. Instead he had found himself packed and on a plane to America for the meeting, feeling as though a storm of emotions was trying to tear him apart from the inside out.

When he reached the hotel, he picked up the key for his reserved room and went upstairs, glad to make it there without running into any other countries. Right now he just needed time to sit down alone with a cup of Earl Grey and a good book. He would deal with the meeting when it was time.

The meeting wasn't until tomorrow, so Alfred decided to take a short walk around the block to think. He really wanted to tell Iggy how he felt…but how would he react? Would it be like in those movies when the other character also had hidden feelings then they kissed, or would Arthur just be ticked and never want to see him again? And even if he did like him as well, where would they go from there? A kiss could only work so much magic.

He hadn't really been focusing on where he was going, and was surprised to find that he had ended up on the old path in the forest about a mile from his house. He stopped walking and debated whether or not he should turn back, after all, the sun would be going down soon and he didn't want to be walking home in the dark, that's when those horror film situations occurred! Suddenly a twig cracked from farther down the path, drawing his attention away from thoughts of axe murderers and rapists hiding behind garbage cans to thoughts about rabid animals and scary clowns that have been kicked out of the circus and held grudges. "Hello?" he called out. "Dude if someone is out there I'd appreciate it if ya would let me know. Cuz I watched a scary movie last night and I'm still kinda freaked out!"

There was silence that carried on for a few minutes, and when he assumed that he had just heard an animal hurrying by, a voice answered. "Why ever would you be afraid of me, poppet? It's not like I would hurt you." Walking down the path came Iggy, or at least someone who looked like him. A few things about him were different, instead of piercing green eyes he had bright bluish-purple eyes that seemed to glow with their own light. And something about him was different in how he made Alfred feel. Instead of feeling happy about being with him, for some reason he felt like the air around them was too still, like the forest itself was also unsure about the new arrival.

"…Iggy, is that you?" he asked in disbelief.

The person in question laughed causing the hair on the back of Al's neck to stand on end. "No, I'm not your precious little 'Iggy' my name is Artie."

"Artie?" A nod of the affirmative, "how do you know Iggy?"

"It's complicated to explain, but if you would like I can try to explain it to you." He grinned, and Alfred couldn't decide if the grin was supposed to be inviting, or if he was supposed to feel uncomfortable.

"Um…okay I guess, but I gotta go home soon, I don't want to walk home in the dark, like I said earlier, the movie I saw last night was scary as hell!"

Another laugh, "Alright poppet, just follow me then." Without looking back to see if Alfred was going to follow, he continued to walk down the path deeper into the forest. _He really is an idiot! _He thought gleefully when he heard the sound of crunching leaves behind him.

A cup of Earl Grey and a few chapters later, Arthur looked out of his hotel room window. The daylight would only last about an hour or so more, it was almost time to decide what should be done for his evening meal. He didn't feel like dealing with others much at the moment, so he decided to make his own meal for the night. A small market was next door to the hotel and since it was almost empty he bought the ingredients he would work with there. The cashier had seemed very confused for some reason when he rang up the various items; obviously he wasn't used to the combination of flavors needed for a proper meal.

Once he had collected what he would need, Arthur returned to his room and turned on the oven in the compact kitchen area. He took out a small pot and filled it halfway with water. After it boiled he started to chop, crush, and slice the various foods and add them to the pot. Once there was nothing else to add he set the lid on and waited for it to finish. It was hard work, but he was sure it would be more than worth it, after all, he didn't want to brag but he was a very good cook in his opinion.

Alfred followed Artie along the path and listened in confusion as he explained that in a way he was Arthur, but in a different form. Well that would explain why they looked so similar. "So does Arthur know about you then?" he asked.

"If he did then I doubt you would have ever even met me dear. You see, I'm like an opposite of sorts."

"An opposite? You mean like a he's light and you're dark kinda thing?"

"Couldn't have explained it better myself, love."

Al jumped inwardly at the final word he spoke, love? They had just met! Then another thought made his stomach drop. What if this Artie _did _like him…would that mean that Iggy hated him?!

"We're here!" Artie announced cheerfully.

They were still in the woods, in fact, the trees had only gotten denser, and blocking out even more of the now-fading sunlight, yet Alfred could still the small house that stood before them. It wasn't very big, probably only a few rooms, and was painted white so it stood out which must be useful when you live this deep in the woods. There were a few windows that showed that no lights were on inside, and the door was black with a few roses planted around the front. All in all it didn't look dark at all, well aside from literal lighting at least. It just looked like a normal house you would pass by on a street. "Do you live here?" Alfred asked in slight shock.

"I do, you see it's too dangerous to live in the city with my job." He replied casually.

"Why, what job do you have?" Must've been a really unusual job if he couldn't work in the city.

"I enjoy baking." He answered with a wide smile.

"But can't you bake in the city?" that smile…he felt like it was one a hunter would give to cornered prey…He mentally shook himself, now he was just spooked by the approaching darkness and his previous thoughts about murders. Which reminded him…"Hey Artie, even though I'm sure you have an awesome house I really need to get back home. It's starting to get dark out now."

"Aw, but surely a small peek inside wouldn't cost you too much time? After all, it's a shame for you to walk all the way here with me if you won't even allow me to show you around a bit." He pleaded.

He hesitated before answering, "…alright, sure. But only a quick look dude, okay?"

"Alright, I daresay you may find yourself unable to leave however, many people seem to stay longer than they mean to when they visit." He grinned, opening the door to invite his 'guest' inside. _The plan is falling into place perfectly now!_


	2. The clock starts ticking

About two hours later all of the residents at the hotel were outside as firemen combated the huge fire. Some were hugging each other crying, others praying, and many were calling loved ones. Soon a few ambulances came to carry off those who were injured. Arthur sat on a bench about a block away trying to figure out where his masterpiece went wrong. Surely it was nothing _he _did, right? It must've been that cheap pot; it just couldn't handle his skill! Yes, that must have been it. Well, looks like he would have to eat out now.

* * *

Once inside, Alfred squinted into the darkness, wishing his eyes would adjust to the lack of light faster. Soon he could make out a kitchen with various knives and ingredients out on the counters, and on his other side was a small living room. In front of him was a hallway with two sets of stairs, one going up, and the other down.

"Isn't it lovely?" Artie asked, going over to the kitchen to look over the knives.

"Yes, it seems, uh…homey!" Alfred replied.

"Would you like me to show you around? I promise that I won't keep you here long." he offered, slowly crossing his fingers behind his back. Lying was a terrible habit, but no one ever said that crossies didn't count!

Al looked outside; the sun was starting to disappear, even if he left now he would probably have to walk through the dark. "I really should get going though dude, it's already getting dark out."

"Oh come now! I'll lend you a flashlight if it will make you feel better!" he promised.

Finally curiosity overrode his common sense and he nodded. "Alright, but I really don't have long."

Artie grinned before motioning for him to follow down the hall. _You're telling me!_ He thought joyfully. _You don't have long at all…_

Arthur walked along the street, looking at the various restaurant names and logos around him. He had his money in his pocket, for which he was grateful, but it wasn't much and he had to make it last throughout the entire trip.

"Bonjour Anglterre!" A hand suddenly wrapped around Arthurs waist and out of instinct he rammed his elbow back to hit whoever it was, though he had no doubt he knew the culprit.

"Don't touch me frog!" he snapped. "What do you want?!"

"I don't suppose _you _had anything to do with that fire, non?" Arthur noted with satisfaction that Francis was definitely out of breath from being elbowed.

"What does it matter if I did, it's none of your business anyway!" he growled in response.

"So it _was _you! I would have thought that all of the kitchens in the world would have restraining orders against you by now!" he exclaimed with false shock.

"Sod off frog! My cooking is excellent!"

"Maybe to you, but I still think that is the real reason Amérique had his little revolution!"

Arthur flinched at the mention of the revolution before snapping back, "You know very well that my cooking is not the reason he chose to revolt against me!"

"Hon hon hon, you say that, but you still hesitated! Is it possible that you are still sore after that incident?" he pressed with a grin.

"I don't care what that git does, now leave me alone before I do the world a favor by mortally wounding you!" Arthur threatened.

"Whatever you say! If you ever want some love advice or perhaps, some _other _advice, don't hesitate to come to me!"

"Yeah right!" Arthur called after him. Instead of continuing down the street like France, he turned around to go back to the hotel. He didn't want to run into anyone else right now, and their conversation had stolen his appetite. _Why do you hate me America? _He asked himself desperately.

* * *

A few minutes later Artie opened the door to his basement and cheerfully went down the stairs, turning on a dim light with a string that hung down from the ceiling.

Alfred followed slowly, unsure why he was in Artie's basement. Didn't most people exclude the basement from house tours? He looked around and was surprised to see that unlike most basements, this one was almost fully furnished. But not like a living room or bedroom. It was another kitchen, like the type you would see at a butcher shop though. There were more knives than in the kitchen upstairs, and in place of ingredients were various tools that shone in the dim light. "What is this?" Alfred asked in confusion.

"My basement." Artie answered simply, examining a length of rope from the counter.

"Why does it look like a butcher shop kitchen?" Al asked in confusion.

Artie just grinned looking up from the rope. "Because in a way that's exactly what it is, love. If you'd like I can show you exactly what I mean."

Alfred wasn't feeling very comfortable with the current offer, but didn't want to seem disrespectful so he gave the answer he knew Artie was looking for. "Alright, show me."


End file.
